


everyone has so many regrets (except kate)

by verity



Series: sam deserves better than these assholes [6]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Pizza, fashion - Freeform, sam's life is the worst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-02
Updated: 2014-10-02
Packaged: 2018-02-19 14:32:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2391836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verity/pseuds/verity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Sometimes I like to think about the good old days," Steve says to Sam as they listen to the thudding of the dartboard in the next room. "Back when I got to wear my own sweaters."</p><p>"Back when they used to play music videos on MTV," Sam says wistfully as he puts another slice of pepperoni on his plate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	everyone has so many regrets (except kate)

**Author's Note:**

> THANK YOU MEG FOR LETTING ME MAKE SAM'S LIFE EVEN MORE HORRIBLE
> 
> IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THE REST OF THIS SERIES YOU SHOULD GO DO THAT FIRST <3

"You look like teenagers getting ready to play strip poker," Sam says as he drops down into the recliner in front of the TV. He's just run a loop around Prospect Park and the only thing he's getting up for is aliens. Someone else is going to have to handle pizza delivery. "Is that Steve's sweater?"

Kate and Bucky lock eyes over their mugs, then turn their heads eerily in sync. "This is Dagmar," Kate says. She plucks at the hem, bracelets rattling. "It's _cashmere_."

"What's strip poker?" Bucky says innocently.

Sam says, "I'm putting on Bill Maher again if you two don't behave."

—

No one should ever have put Kate Bishop and Bucky Barnes in the same room, that's all. Sam could have told anyone that, except he was at work the time giant spiders tried to take over Brooklyn and Bucky went to ground in Clint's apartment. Kate was already in Clint's apartment, allegedly stealing the affections of Clint's dog.

Clint signaled the bartender for another round. "She'll take him with her again if she leaves. I can't do it again, man. Heartbreak."

"No one can take someone from you if they don't want to leave." Sam was just quoting Taylor Swift in that article in _The Guardian_ , but it sounded real profound three pints in. "Lucky's his own person, Clint."

"He's a dog," Clint said.

"That, too," said Sam.

Clint's new beer friend arrived, foamy and glistening with condensation. "He likes your boyfriend's boyfriend better than me," Clint said as he swapped out pint glasses.

Sam squinted. "Run that by me again?"

—

The way Bucky dresses never seemed fashionable until Sam started seeing a lot of Kate, who basically wears the same stuff except it costs thousands of dollars and has a lineage that sounds like a pedigreed dog, like adidas by Stella McCartney for Alexander McQueen. In the field, she's all purple-catsuit-business; the rest of the time, it's all drapey plum linen this, designer lavender leggings that.

"See, now you don't have to make eye contact with anyone, _and_ you look cute," Kate says, settling a pair of aviators onto Bucky's face. "Don't frown. I'm going to—yeah, that's great." She tugs a few loose locks of hair free.

Bucky probes his bun, hopefully checking the structural integrity, probably feeling for weapons. "Does my hair need to be down?"

"Not unless you're auditioning for Metallica," Sam says.

"What's Metallica?" says Kate.

While Sam is deciding between turning up the volume on Rachel Maddow and retiring to Arizona, Steve comes in from the kitchen. "Are those my sunglasses?"

"Ah, good," Sam says. "You can pay for the pizza."

—

"Sometimes I like to think about the good old days," Steve says to Sam as they listen to the thudding of the dartboard in the next room. "Back when I got to wear my own sweaters."

"Back when they used to play music videos on MTV," Sam says wistfully as he puts another slice of pepperoni on his plate.

"Carson Daly, my man," Clint says from his perch on top of the massive oak hutch that Natasha got them from an estate sale, possibly as punishment for their sins.

Steve nods. " _TRL_."

Sam doesn't even want to know.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [ladyofthelog](http://ladyofthelog.tumblr.com) on tumblr.
> 
> Meg is [lazulisong](http://lazulisong.tumblr.com) on tumblr.
> 
> Together, we make fictional grown men cry.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] everyone has so many regrets (except kate)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2611415) by [reena_jenkins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reena_jenkins/pseuds/reena_jenkins)




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